Tissue? I Hardly Know You!
by ilikecrystals
Summary: Takes place after 'The Bet', Dean is jealous and needs Sam to understand how he feels. Wincest and Spanking! Reviews make me a happy writer!
1. Chapter 1

*

Dean stares hard at the douchebag sitting next to Sam, his eyes boring holes in the back of the guy's head, wondering if he really does have a death wish or if he's just clueless. The man is blissfully unaware that he's about to get a serious ass kicking.

And Sam. Laughing, joking with the guy, like he's the funniest frigging thing in the whole world.

Dean swears if that guy slaps Sam on the shoulder one more time, he's gonna eat a Winchester fist, lose a few teeth and count himself lucky that he's still among the living.

He watches as the two at the bar bump shoulders, tossing back shots like they're old drinking buddies. Nice. Here he is working his tail off, hustling pool, trying to keep them in food and gas and Sam's over there drinking it all down with a good ole boy before the money's even in their pockets.

With each drawl of the other man's deep voice followed by Sam's laugh, Dean grows more incensed, viciously shooting balls into pockets with dead-on accuracy, barely even paying attention to the game in front of him, so consumed is he by what's happening between his brother and Mr. Wonderful there at the bar. Dean sinks the eight-ball and takes the money off the table, stuffing it in his pocket.

The other man grunts out, "Double or nuttin?" and Dean nods distractedly.

The man's voice carries across the room to Dean's ears and Sam's laugh rings out again, making Dean grit his teeth, quaking with bottled up anger.

Frigging wonderful.

*

They'd been staying close to the motel since last night when they'd had Sam's spanking session. All day today, they'd stayed in bed, shutting out the world around them, just holding each other, touching each other.

They'd made love, tenderly, passionately, Dean being extra gentle because of Sam's bruises and Sam...well, Sam was just like he used to be, before the psychic shit, before Ruby. His hero-worship, his adoration of his big brother shone out of his face and he was in a playful mood, laughing easily, making jokes, trying to get Dean to smile, and taking such pleasure in finally gaining a deep rumbling chuckle from his brother's chest.

They'd cuddled, showered, ate and cuddled some more, taking their time, getting to know each other again now that Sam's crap was out of the way, getting their fill of each other. Toward evening, Dean mentioned they needed to make some money before they could move onto the next hunt. They played rock, paper, scissors to see who'd do the hustling and Sam had won, rubbing it in that Dean always took the wrong choice, chiding his brother until Dean smacked him hard on his still red and bruised ass, making Sam yelp in pain. That had shut Sam up real quick.

They'd dressed and driven to a nearby bar where Sam took up residence atop a bar stool, laptop open in front of him, watching Dean with loving eyes. Every time Dean turned to look at him, Sam would let his eyes run suggestively over Dean's body, licking his lips while undressing Dean with his eyes. Dean walked around the pool table, a stupid smile plastered on his face and when Sam took a swig of beer, mouthing the bottle like it was Dean's dick or something, Dean almost drooled, instantly aroused, his erection poking up for anyone to see. He narrowed his eyes at Sam who smiled sweetly back.

Dean walked up to his brother, bending his head down to Sam's ear and whispered sensuously, "Stop looking at me like that, Sammy, or I'm gonna take you in the bathroom, drop your pants, bend you over in one of those stalls and take you right there..."

Sam made a strangled noise in his throat, his cheeks flushed scarlet and he stared back at Dean, eyes hot with lust, speechless at the image Dean just put into his head.

Dean grinned at him wickedly and, pressing closer, grabbed Sam's crotch, hiding his hand from view and squeezing tightly. Sam jerked, almost falling off his stool and Dean nonchalantly walked back to the pool table, taking his turn as though nothing had happened.

And then the cowboy had come in, all dressed in black, Stetson pulled low on his head, and scooted onto the stool next to Sam, nodding at him in the dim light. Sam had smiled back, said hello and the next thing Dean knew, they were shooting the shit, Sam talking and laughing with the dude, and Dean was no longer the sole object of Sam's attention.

Which didn't sit too well with Dean.

*

For the past hour, Dean's had to listen to the idiot's freaking grating voice, a fake drawl if he ever heard one, and Sam's incessant laugh. Sam's laptop is back in the Impala and he's enraptured with the stories the cowboy is telling. Truth be told, everyone in the bar is listening but Sam's the one Dean's focused on, his brother's eyes never leaving the guy's face and every time the dude tells a joke, he slaps Sam on the back, laughing up a storm. Sam's giving the jerk all his attention, being regaled with stories of the good old days and looking like he's hit the jackpot, asking questions and making comments. Dean walked behind Sam, close enough to touch him, putting his beer down on the bar in front of his brother and Sam barely glanced at him, making Dean feel as about important as a fly on the wall.

Frigging wonderful.

Dean's wad of cash is huge and the men he's been beating at pool are starting to rumble about pool sharks and hustling so it's about time they leave. He tries to motion to Sam but his brother isn't looking anywhere near him, nope, he only has eyes for the Stetson, the jerk. Dean puts on his coat and looks over hopefully. Nope, Sam still isn't watching. With an exasperated sigh, Dean approaches Sam, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Just wait till he gets Sam alone...they're going to have a little talk about paying attention.

Dean sees the cowboy suddenly reach toward Sam, saying, "Kiss you..."

Son of a bitch! Dean's temper, stretched to a thin wire, snaps like a dry twig.

Before he even knows what he's going to do, Dean's yanked the bastard off the bar stool, fist slamming into the guy's laughing mouth, the Stetson flying backwards in the air.

Yeah, laugh it up, asshole!

The guy goes down and Dean's right on top of him, punching the bitch's jaw, smashing his head back onto the floor. He feels arms around him, pulling him off and he stomps on the guy's legs for good measure, getting in some good kicks before Sam manages to drag him off.

"Dean, what the fuck!"

Once Dean gets his feet under him, he shoves Sam to one side and goes back after the guy, who's being hefted off the floor by a couple of patrons. He swings low, lifting the guy off his feet with a good punch to the stomach just before Sam wraps himself around Dean, pinning Dean's arms to his sides and dragging him backwards.

The bartender is screaming at them he's gonna call the cops, Lover Boy's mouth is all bloody and he's bent over, holding his stomach, trying to breathe and everyone in the bar is staring at them like they're lunatics.

"Get that bastard outta my bar! And don't come back!" The chewed on cigar in the owner's mouth moves up and down as he yells at Sam.

"We're going" Sam huffs out, bodily picking up his brother and swinging him around towards the door, with Dean snarling, "Get off me, Sam!", fighting to get loose.

Dean feels Sam's arms tighten around him as he fights to free himself, his brother's grip like a vise around his upper body and Dean can barely breathe with the pressure Sam's putting on his chest. Dean makes his body limp, dead weight and Sam almost drops him.

"Oh, you jerk!" Sam breathes into his ear and hefts him up, dragging Dean backwards past the bar and out the door, barely able to keep his grip cause Dean's dragging his feet now, scraping his heels so Sam has to work harder to move him.

Sam pushes Dean through the door and over to the Impala, shoving his brother face down on hood of the car, Sam laying his body weight on top of the now struggling, wriggling Dean.

"Dean, stop!" Sam breathes noisily in his ear, exertion making him pant.

"Lemme go!" Dean kicks out at his brother's legs, making contact with a shin and Sam grunts in pain.

"Son of a bitch! What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"He was hitting on you!"

"That guy? No, he wasn't, Dean!"

"Yes he was, jerk! He said he wanted to kiss you! I heard him! What do you think, I'm an idiot?"

Sam is silent on top of him and Dean feels his brother shaking like he's having some sort of fit. He cranes his neck to look at Sam's face and the son of a bitch is fucking laughing, holding it in, looking like he's gonna burst a blood vessel or something, his cheeks bright red and his eyes shut tight.

"What's so fucking funny?" Dean demands, shoving backwards with an elbow, digging into Sam's gut.

"Ow! Dean!" Sam takes a deep breath, trying to stop the belly laugh that's racking his body, "He asked me for a tissue, not a kiss, you idiot!"

"A tissue?" Dean scowls at his brother, thinking furiously back to what the guy actually said and then, giving Sam a sickly grin, "Oh...well, why didn't you say so?"

Sam gets up, letting Dean loose and stares at his brother, shaking his head, "Dean, you gotta stop being so jealous! You don't need to worry! I only want you, ok? Please, man!"

Dean looks down at the ground, scuffing it lightly with one foot and rubbing the tension out of the back of his neck, admitting uncomfortably, "I know, Sam. I just can't help it. You'd feel the same if it was me."

"No, Dean, I wouldn't. Because I don't worry about that kind of stuff."

Dean scoffs, "Yeah, right. Only 'cause it hasn't happened yet."

"No. It's because I trust you. And you should trust me."

"Trust has nothing to do with it. You don't know what you're talking about. Believe me, if the situation was reversed and I was the one getting hit on and you were watching, you'd drive yourself crazy with it, too."

Sam shakes his head, certainty in his voice, "No, I wouldn't, Dean."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Because I know you love me. I don't have to be jealous."

Dean's eyes sparkle with a challenge, "Right. Let's go back in. I'll pick somebody up and you get to watch this time. Then, we'll see."

Sam's voice stops Dean from walking back into the joint, "We can't go back in there, Dean, they kicked us out. In fact, I'm pretty sure the cops are on the way so we better get out of here."

"Shit!" Dean rounds the car, hopping in the Impala and taking off as soon as Sam jumps in. Dean peels out of the driveway, stomping on the gas to get them out of there quick.

"Sammy, we're gonna find another place and we're gonna do a little experiment, see if we can get you to be just a little jealous."

"Fine. But it's not gonna happen. I don't get jealous, Dean."

"We'll see."

*


	2. Chapter 2

*

They find a bar a few miles away, its neon beer sign beckoning to weary travelers to come, relax and drink. Dean peels into the parking lot and stops the car, looking over at Sam as he turns off the ignition, "Ready for this?"

Sam shakes his head at his brother, "We don't have to do this, Dean. You're always flirting with women anyway and I learned a long time ago not to get pissed about it. It's just who you are."

"But, that was before, Sam. Now, it's, I don't know, different. We're different."

"Not that different. Face it, Dean, you can't help it, it's like second nature to you, like breathing."

Dean's eyebrows come together, disbelieving, "So, you really don't care if I pick up someone in a bar? Or if they hit on me? It doesn't matter to you at all, is that what you're telling me?"

"I didn't say it didn't matter. I've just learned not to let it show and not to get all bent about it."

Dean scratches the back of his head, "I don't buy it, Sam."

Sam gives a frustrated sigh, "Ok, look, Dean, you want me jealous? Ok, fine, I'm jealous. If I see you flirting with anyone, I'm gonna kick their ass, ok? Is that what you want me to do? Will that make you feel better, give you what you need? Happy now? Good. Can we go home?"

Dean's lips press together in anger as he scowls at Sam, "So, what is that? You humoring me, Sam? You know what? Fuck you!"

Sam spreads out his hands, "Dean-"

"I don't want to hear it, you patronizing jerk. Just go. I'll find my own way back."

Dean jumps out of the car, slamming the door and going quickly inside without a backward glance.

Sam gets out of the car, glaring after his brother, feeling his temper rise. Shit!

He hates fighting with Dean! It makes him feel all black and cold in his stomach and nothing's right until they work it out. But, what the hell does Dean want from him? Why does he want so badly for Sam to be jealous?

The college boy in him tries to psychoanalyze his brother and get at the root of the problem but he just can't figure it. Dean knows he has Sam's love, especially after last night where Dean brought Sam back from his own private hell, punishing him with a firm hand and finding out about Sam's shameful secret. Dean knows, _must know_, how much Sam needs him. What else can he do to help Dean understand?

Sam gets in the Impala and starts to drive away but thinks better of it and instead, parks in a secluded spot, waiting a few minutes before he enters the bar. He slides the door open and peeks in, seeing Dean sitting at the bar with his back to the door. Hmmm, not very hunter-like. Then he spots the bartender and nods. That makes more sense.

She's mid-thirties, pretty, with brown hair and big dimples that show in her cheeks whenever she smiles and right now, she's smiling at Dean a lot.

Sam slides into the table behind them, a few feet away and he's able to hear their conversation clearly.

"What's the matter, honey? You look like you lost your best friend." Her soft voice filters over to Sam.

Dean gives a harsh laugh, "You could say that."

Dean's already finished one beer and she's sliding another one across the bar towards him, saying soothingly, "Tell Gina all about it."

Looking down into his beer, Dean mumbles, "I shoulda known better, you know? Everything I touch just gets all fucked up."

"You married?" the girl asks his brother.

"Nah but I'm with someone." Dean shakes his head, "At least I was."

"Aw, what happened?"

Dean shrugs, "I don't really know. It's me, I guess. We just got together and it's hard for me to watch...her with other guys, you know? I didn't think I was the jealous type but it turns out I am and..."

"So what, you don't trust her?"

Dean takes a big swig of beer, "No, I trust, uh, her with my life. I don't know what it is. I guess sometimes I feel like...she's too good for me and I don't deserve...her. She doesn't get jealous like I do and sometimes I wish that..."

"She would?"

"Something like that."

"Honey, you want her to fight for you? That'll show you how much she loves you, right? Nothing wrong with that."

Dean mutters, "Doesn't matter anyway. It's never gonna happen."

"Never say never, darling. I've seen lots of things in my life I thought were never gonna happen and _didn't_ they go and do just that? She just may surprise you."

"Nah. She loves me like a brother, not like I lo-I mean, care about her."

Gina looks at him across the bar with understanding eyes, "Can't even say the word, huh? You got it bad, sweetie."

Dean downs his beer and motions with his head for another, "What I don't get is how two people can go through stuff together but that stuff doesn't mean the same to either one of them. Why is that? How can two people look at the world so differently?"

She hands him another bottle of beer and slides a shot of scotch on the bar, "On the house, darling"

"Appreciate it." Dean downs it quickly, coughing at the burn in his throat.

The bartender smiles at him, "Well, that's what makes it fun, right? If the other person thought about everything the same as you, that'd be pretty depressing, wouldn't it? Not even another point of view? Not even a disagreement? I tell you, fighting is the best part of any relationship because that's where you grow. It's your choice whether you grow together or apart."

Dean smiles at her "What are you, the Dalai Lama or something? Wise beyond your years?"

"I've lived through a lot, that's all. And I do love to jaw about things, in case you haven't noticed. Tell me, are you still with her?"

Dean looks down at his beer bottle and his voice goes hollow, emotionless, "I don't know."

Sam watches as the woman reaches over to cover Dean's hand with hers, "Sweetie, what are you doing here?"

A deep sigh raises Dean's shoulders and he takes another drink, "I guess I just want to know that someone still finds me attractive."

The woman laughs deep in her throat, "Attractive? You're the best thing I've seen in these parts in a long time. If you're interested, I'm interested and I sure don't want nothing from you other than a night of hot, steamy loving. You just gotta let me know. I got an apartment upstairs and we can be up there and naked inside of five minutes. You're the one with the girlfriend. It's your call."

Sam closes his eyes in anguish, repeating..._Don't go, Dean_, _don't go_...over and over in his head. He hears Dean's voice, low, throaty, so familiar it cuts his heart, "Well, now, that's quite an offer."

"It's on the table for as long as you're here. You walk out, I withdraw it, sorry."

"Understood and thanks."

"If it's any consolation, she doesn't know what a prize bull she has, if you ask me." Gina gives a belly laugh.

She really does have a nice laugh and, in any other situation, Sam might have enjoyed talking to her. But, not now. Now, he feels this frantic beat of his heart, this breathlessness in his chest and he's frightened for no reason at all but knows it won't go away as long as Dean is here, with her.

Dean's voice sounds like he's smiling again, "Well, I've been called a lot of things before but that's a new one. I like it. Five minutes, huh?"

"Naked and rutting like bunnies...you just gotta make the call..." the girl is so comfortable in her own skin and with her own sexiness that she's making Sam horny.

"You know what?" Dean drains his beer and slams down the bottle, "I'm calling it. There's nothing I'd like better right now than being with you, rutting like bunnies..."

"Now you're talking!" And she hollers out to someone to come cover the bar, slipping out from behind it to lead the way. Dean gets to his feet and turns around to follow and stares right into Sam's eyes.

Sam holds up a hand in a half-wave, gazing up at him with huge, sad eyes, mouth trembling, having no words to say. He just tries, with his gaze, to ask Dean not to go...unable to tell him why or what, just pleading with him to just not go.

Gina turns back, "Darling? Everything ok?"

Dean's focus shifts from Sam to the girl and then back to Sam where he studies Sam's face, tracing each familiar line, each bone and expression with his eyes.

Sam mouths the word, "Please."

Dean face gets hard, rigid. His mind is already made up and Sam screams inside his mind at Dean to _please don't go_!

"I'm coming." And as Dean walks past Sam, he stops, staring straight ahead and says out loud, "Go home, Sam." and then walks after the girl, out the back door of the bar.

Sam lets his breath out in a rush, his body collapsing into itself like he just deflated, and his eyes fill with stinging, salty tears. He feels them start to come out and he beats feet out of there, before anyone sees him bawling like a baby. _Shit, Dean! What are you doing? Are you really going to sleep with that girl?_

He makes it to the car and slams the door shut behind him, putting his face on the steering wheel and the sobs hit him hard, racking his body with deep gasping ones that come from way inside, where no words exist, where only the horrible aching hurt rips at his heart, slashing at his soul. He cries until he has no more breath and the tears are all used up, at least for now, and his chest is hitching with shallow gasps.

Where the hell did this come from? Seems Dean's right and maybe Sam does have some jealousy inside. All he knows is what Dean's doing at this moment isn't right and it's not fair. Sam's never slept with anyone, never even looked at anyone since he and Dean agreed to be together. Dean's it for him and no one else can even hold a candle to his brother in Sam's eyes. He's everything Sam ever wanted and everything he loves.

And now Dean is with that girl, probably fucking her senseless, making her whimper and cry out with how good his dick feels inside. Another sob rolls out of him...Sam knows about that feeling first hand, knows that just one touch, one look from Dean can make Sam hot and trembling. Sam rubs his face to get the images in his head to go away.

Sam knows himself well enough to know that he can't handle this and he's reach it...the end of his patience, the end of his last straw, whatever it is, he's had enough. He _cannot_ just watch Dean flirt or go get laid anymore, it's like cutting wounds into him and if Dean does this, Sam won't be able to get past it because it's cheating, pure and simple, and that's wrong, just wrong.

Dean, so loving, so firm to him last night, helping to heal him by the punishment he laid on him, making Sam better and now, that Dean is gone, like he never was and it's all gone horribly wrong.

Dammit!

Sam's tears start to well back up again. It's pretty clear Dean doesn't love him enough_ that_ way if he can go sleep with someone else without even a second thought, knowing that he's hurting Sam so badly.

They just found their way again, together. Doesn't Dean love him? Doesn't he want him anymore? How can Dean go be with someone else, touch someone else the way he touches Sam? Those fingers, that mouth, belong to _him, _to Sam! No one else!

Suddenly, his anger rears up out of nowhere, flushing his face with it. Dean needs to get his ass kicked is what needs to happen! How the fuck _dare_ he! What did Sam ever do to deserve this kind of treatment? Nothing! Absolutely nothing! He talked to a guy in a bar! That's all! And because of Dean's insecurities and frigging issues, now _they_ have something huge dividing them, separating them, all because of Dean's need to feel attractive!

The passenger door opens up and Dean gets in the car, sitting down heavy and shutting the door behind him. Sam swipes at his eyes and looks at his hands and then out the window, anywhere but at Dean. He can't think of a thing to say to his brother that won't come out hateful and cutting.

"Let's go, Sam." Dean says quietly.

"Dean." Sam's voice comes out in a whimper, breaking. He takes a painful swallow over his dry throat, "I need to know. Did you and her...?"

*


	3. Chapter 3

*

"Just drive, Sam."

"No, Dean! You need to tell me! I need to hear you say the words! Did you just screw that girl?"

"What if I did, would you be jealous?"

Silence. The brothers look everywhere but at each other.

Then, Sam breaks.

A sharp laugh barks out of his throat, jagged and raw and ends on a sob that catches in his chest, "Is that all that matters to you, that I'm jealous? Ok, Dean. I admit it, I'm jealous, ok?"

Sam's voice is rough, harsh, "I'm so fucking jealous I can't see straight and all I want to do right now is kick your ass because you did this to me, to us! I wanted to rip that girl apart for just touching your hand, you son of a bitch! Even if you didn't sleep with her, you left with her, in front of me, and you knew what it would do to me! You knew how much it would hurt me and, yeah, Dean, congratulations, you did it! You hurt me, ok? Guess you got what you wanted."

"Sam-"

Sam rakes back his bangs, his face working with emotion, struggling to keep his voice low when all he wants to do is scream at the top of his lungs at Dean, rage at him until he's hoarse and empty of this awful crushing hurt that is eating him alive, making him wild with anger and pain, "You cut me down, man, brought me to my knees and proved your point! You were right, Dean. Guess you showed me, huh? Happy now?"

He finally looks at Dean, eyes huge, swimming with unshed tears, the hurt shining out of them, and his breath gasps out of his chest as he grits out the words, "You went with her…even after you saw me there, even when I asked you not to!"

Dean raises his eyebrows and starts to speak but Sam cuts him off, "Oh, come on! You _knew_ what I meant when I said please, so don't even give me that dumb confused look, you bastard! What I don't understand is why! Why?"

Sam's voice drops to a whisper and he opens up his hands, giving Dean a lost and bewildered look, "It wouldn't have hurt so much if it was an accident or something that just happened. But you…you meant to do it, it's what you set out to do and I don't understand what I've done to you that would make you want to hurt me like this. Why would you do this to me?"

Dean says softly, "Sammy, I'm sorry, I…" then shakes his head but says no more, leaving the silence between them growing until it's pulsing, pounding in Sam's ears.

Sam feels the tears start falling and he swipes at them angrily, blinking his eyes to stop crying. Suddenly, the hurt dealt him at Dean's hands overwhelms him and he can't cope with it. It's so huge and painful that it leaves him out of breath, a hard lump that burns in his chest and he can barely even look at Dean. He lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes flicking up to Dean's and down again, the lump making it difficult to speak. He slaps away another tear rolling down his cheek.

He needs to get out of here, away from Dean before he explodes and shouts things he knows he'll regret, awful things that are bubbling up inside him. He needs to find someplace to hide, lick his wounds and figure out what he needs to do next. He can't think now, not with Dean so close and everything so sharp and new.

Giving his brother a scathing look, Sam gets out of the car and pops the trunk. He takes out his duffle bag and some weapons, filling pockets with necessities, swings the bag over his shoulder and starts walking away, head high, hands shoved into his pockets, not looking back.

He hears Dean's voice behind him, "Sam, get in the car!"

"No." Sam starts walking.

"SAM!" Dean yells and Sam stops, turns to look at his brother.

Dean is standing in front of the car, hands on hips, staring him down, "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Away from you."

"No, you're not."

"Try and stop me, Dean."

"We'll talk about it at the motel, Sam. Let's go."

"No."

Dean's voice is threatening, "Sam, I'm telling you to get in the car. Now!"

Sam stares at Dean for another second, hefts his bag into a more comfortable position and turns away, walking towards the bar and beyond it, the highway.

"Son of a bitch! Look, Sam, you're already walking a thin line! You were being a patronizing shit to me before and now you're going to disobey me, too?"

Sam yells back over his shoulder "Disobey you? Dean, you're not Dad so stop trying to act like you are."

Dean hollers after him, "I may not be Dad but I'm older than you and I can still whip your ass! Sam! Stop walking!"

Sam keeps going, ignoring Dean. He hears his brother's shout, "Alright, Sam! When we get back to the motel, me and your ass are going to have another discussion about correcting your disrespectful attitude!"

Sam whirls around and stalks back towards Dean, his temper boiling over, "My attitude? Where the hell do you get off talking about my attitude? My attitude _was_ respectful until you started in on this jealousy shit! And I'm not the one who just went and fucked some chick to prove a point! I mean, Dean, what the hell, man? Is this a game to you or something? Do you have any idea what you've done here?"

"I haven't done anything that you didn't expect, have I? I'm just following my nature, like breathing, remember? I can't control myself and you know how I flirt and sleep around, it's just who I am, right? I'm not as good as you are, I guess, at hiding my feelings and not showing _anything_ at all. You're like a fucking stone and all I wanted was something from you to show that you loved me like I love…shit, Sammy…" Dean's voice trails away and he searches Sam's face for understanding.

Sam rubs his hand across his aching forehead, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before asking quietly, "And me kissing you, tasting you, touching you all over, with my fingers, with my mouth, doesn't show you that, Dean?"

"It does, Sam, when we're alone. But, when we're out…"

"What? You want people to know about us, about what we do together? Tell me, Dean, what would you have done tonight if the situation was reversed? What, would you have gone up and popped the bartender in the mouth or something? Would you have dragged me out of the bar by my hair? What? Tell me what I should have done!"

Dean's eyes glitter into his, his mouth angry, pressed into a thin line. He takes a calming breath in and then replies silkily, "I would have sat down at the bar right next to you, so you could see me. I wouldn't have hidden, like you did. I would have put my hand on your leg and whispered in your ear that I was going to fuck you so hard once I got you home that you wouldn't be able to walk for a week and then I would have told you step by step just how I was going to do it. By the time I got done, you'da forgotten all about the nice lady behind the bar and would only have eyes for me. That's what I would have done. That's what I wanted you to do."

Sam stares at him, a deep sadness welling up in his heart, "That's not me, Dean. I'm not like you and I wouldn't have ever done that. I want you to make the right choice on your own without me having to get in your face, without me being in the way. I guess you're right. I can't give you what you need. I'm sorry. I am a stone, and right now, this stone is cracked and bleeding and I need to go away from here, away from you so I can think about things, decide on what to do."

"Sam-."

"Dean, you told me that you wouldn't try to stop me if I wanted to leave after you gave me the spanking."

"I know I-"

Sam interrupts him, "You said "If you need to leave and be on your own after this is finished, I won't stand in your way", right? Didn't you say that?"

Dean's voice is harsh, "I know what I said, Sam! You don't have to repeat it back to me like I'm some kind of idiot! I seem to recall you saying you could never leave me. Isn't that what you told me?"

Letting out his breath in a rush, Sam's shoulders slump dejectedly, "I guess I was wrong, Dean. I guess I was wrong about a lot of stuff."

He turns to walk away and Dean's hand is on his shoulder, pulling him around and before he can think, Dean is there, so close, so warm, his familiar scent filling Sam's head with wanting, with need and Dean's lips are on his, feather-soft and delicious, pushing open Sam's mouth gently, tasting, touching his tongue to Sam's, causing flickers of desire to shoot down into his belly.

Dean's hands are running up and down his body, touching, caressing, making Sam tremble, hungry for more, always more of Dean's fingers on him.

His hands moving down to Sam's crotch, Dean squeezes gently, massaging Sam's dick through his jeans, making his brother moan and rub back against his fingers. He deepens the kiss, his tongue swirling and sliding into Sam's mouth, making his brother dizzy with desire and Sam is shamelessly rubbing himself against Dean's hands, hips thrust forward, body shivering with heat.

Dean breaks the kiss and Sam can feel his lips are still so close, almost touching his own, and he can feel Dean's breath on his mouth, his whisper on his cheek "Please don't go, Sammy. We can talk about this, work through it. Just don't-"

Sam's already shaking his head, eyes closed tight against the tears that have welled up again with no warning, "I can't stay…I can't stay…"

He leans in to kiss Dean lightly and then pulls back, pushing his brother away, "I love you, Dean. Please don't forget that."

"Sam, don't..."

Sam steps back and wipes his mouth with his hand, squares his shoulders and pushes away the doubts, "I have to."

He hefts his duffle up, turns and walks away, more determined than ever. This time, he doesn't stop, doesn't look back and doesn't falter, just continues going where he knows he must.

Away from Dean.

*


	4. Chapter 4

*

Tick. Tick.

Sam's shoelaces tick against the sides of his shoes as he walks. Funny, he never noticed himself making that noise before. All of a sudden, Sam realizes he hasn't been alone, walking on a lonely highway, in a very long time. He can hear his breath moving in his chest and just for fun, takes a big inhale, filling his lungs with the cool night air. It's good and clean and he swears he can taste the rain coming, the air coppery and damp in his mouth.

He clears out his mind with each deep breath and soon he's wuffling in great big gulps of it, moving one foot in front of the other.

Tick. Tick.

He doesn't want to think, doesn't want to feel anymore. Not right now, anyway. Now, he needs to find a place for the night because, even though it's all well and good that he stormed off in a righteous huff, he was an idiot for not getting a good night's sleep before he took off running.

With all the emotional shit that he's been through this evening, he needs some serious shut-eye before he can even begin to think his way around this.

Lights coming behind him seem an answer to a prayer and he turns, sticking out his thumb to try to hitch a ride. It's a huge rig, barreling down on him and he stands well back on the shoulder just in case the driver's asleep or not watching. He hears the brakes squeak and the big truck starts to slow, coming to a gasping stop next to him.

Sam jumps up on the foot board and opens the door, peering in at the driver.

A stout man, blond hair and blonder eyebrows on a beefy red face, stares back at him, pushing up his Yankees baseball cap, "Where you headed?"

"Next town that's got a place to sleep." Sam mutters.

"Hop in. I'll get you there."

*

Dean lays on the bed, arm behind his head, staring up at a cobweb in the corner of the ceiling, watching the little spider spin it with all his might, moving quickly, busily, going nowhere fast.

Lot like his life.

Sometimes, he's amazed by his own ability to fuck things up.

Sam's been gone forty-five minutes now, every single one of them an eternity and Dean's more scared than he's ever been.

He's alone.

God, that's the worst word in the English language, as far as Dean's concerned.

Now, what the hell is he gonna do?

He knew it would happen, that he'd screw up this relationship just like he's screwed up every other one in his life. He could shrug it off, say he wasn't made for anything long-term and that would be partly right. But, he could've worked at this one, for once in his life, and made it be good.

It was already far better than any he'd had before, ever, because he loves Sam, with all his breath and heart and that's the difference. Why couldn't he just accept that Sam loved him back and enjoyed what they were making together. Why did he have to play these stupid games?

Dean doesn't know why he wanted to hurt Sam. When he'd looked into his eyes at the bar back there, it was as if there was a line drawn in the sand between them.

On Sam's side, was love and hot passion whenever he wanted it, guaranteed to make him fat and happy and make hunting a thing of the past 'cause he could totally see just settling down with his brother and being completely content to do so.

On Dean's side was solitude, fear and the sharp edge of the hunt, slender and ravaged and quicksilver, guaranteed to make him die an early violent death as he took out as many evil sons of bitches as he possibly could before they got to him and Sam.

Sam's side would change his life, for better or worse, and suddenly, Dean got cold feet, legs and dick as he stared into his brother's gentle, loving eyes. He was supposed to die violently because he was Dean Winchester. He wasn't supposed to grow old with someone and be fat and happy. Guys like him didn't get the fairy-tale ending and he could hear fate laughing because he even thought he was in the running for it.

He isn't worthy of Sam's love or anyone else's either, and at that moment, he wanted to rip Sam from existence for making him feel so _beneath_ him, so worthless and he felt his face freeze up, felt his mind shut down as he said those three stupid words that cut Sam's heart to the quick, "Go home, Sam."

He hadn't even told Sam the truth because when Sam asked him point-blank about Gina, he'd sidestepped the question and they'd never got back to it.

He needs to tell Sam the truth. Even if it's over and they never see each other again, he owes it to Sam to tell him what happened.

The spider still works furiously, spinning the most intricate web he's ever seen, making a beautiful home for himself in hopes that guests may drop by to stave off the loneliness but not realizing that his only contact with other life will be just before he eats it for dinner. The spider, because of the nature of its existence, must stay alone.

Just like him.

He hears the rain start pattering on the windows, the sky crying like his heart inside. He sighs and picks up his phone.

********************************************

**Sam's phone; 2:15 a.m.**

"Sammy, it's me. Shit. I wish you woulda picked up. I need to tell you…I wanted to tell you the truth earlier but I couldn't get the words out…"

"I never slept with Gina, Sam."

"I went up to her apartment, ready to get laid and we were kissing and touching each other and I got it up with no problem but when it came time to do the deed, man…I just couldn't. All I could see was your face with that hurt, sad look in your eyes and I couldn't do that to you or to us. I started apologizing to her every which way I could think of and ended up telling her about you and me."

"She told me to get dressed, go find you and straighten stuff out. But, on the way down, I had my own ideas of what I should say to you and we both know how well _that_ worked out."

"Anyway, I wanted you to know the truth. I'm sorry for everything. Can you…can you just come home? I miss you, Sam."

*

**Sam's phone: 4:20 a.m.**

"Sam, I can't sleep. I wish you'd answer your phone. I really need to talk to you."

"I keep thinking about that spanking, Sam and what you told me. You know, how you feel when you go into that place of yours and how you feel after. You said that it 'wipes the slate clean and all is forgiven' or something like that and you feel 'brand new again.'" I keep thinking how happy you looked right after…how relieved and clear your eyes were and how we were so close for a while."

"I'm thinking about that a lot."

"I want that, too, to go to that place where you went. I want to feel that relief and for the slate to be clean. I want you to forgive me, Sammy."

"Please come home."

*

**Sam's phone: 8:30 a.m.**

"I missed waking up with you today. My stomach was cold with just my pillow to hug and the bed felt empty and…well, I just hate being alone, I guess. I just wanted you to know that."

*

**Sam's phone: 12:10 p.m.**

"Hi Sam. I just went by Gina's place for lunch and she told me you dropped by. She said you asked her what happened between her and me and she told you the same thing I did. I wish you would have believed me but I'm glad you know the truth now. "

"Sure wish you'd answer your phone. I'd love to just hear your voice."

"Listen, I'm gonna be gone for a couple of hours. I'll call you when I get back."

"I miss you, man."

*

**Sam's phone: 6:00 p.m.**

"Sam? It's me. Why won't you answer your fucking phone?"

"I went to see the Chief. You remember him? He's the "Dom" the magicians sent me to, remember, as a joke? Anyway, I scheduled a session with him and just got back…"

"I didn't get to that place, Sammy."

"He used his hands on me but I didn't really feel that much. Guess I got a high tolerance for this sort of thing and he wasn't hitting me nearly as hard as I hit you. I asked him to hit me harder and it hurt a little more but after half an hour, I still didn't reach where you went."

"I told him to stop, that it wasn't working and he started asking me questions about what I was expecting to happen. Then, he explained to me about you and that place you go to. Turns out there's even a name for what you need. It's called Domestic Discipline and most people who practice it are husbands and wives. Yeah, ok, so we always were a little out of the box on stuff…"

"Anyway, the Chief told me the person in authority is the one who sets limits and then if those boundaries are crossed, he enforces the punishment so that the partner understands the consequences of incorrect actions. He gives loving discipline and once the punishment is over, everything is forgiven, forgotten and not brought up again. He said in our case, the person in authority can change as necessary based on the situation."

"Thing is, the people involved have to know each other and care about each other. The Chief told me that's why I couldn't get to that place, because I don't care if I disappoint him. You're the one who matters to me. He said you'd have to be the one to do it, to punish me, in order for me to feel forgiven and be washed clean."

"Sammy, I'm asking you to please…will you help me out?"

"Give me a call, ok?"

*

**Sam's phone: 8:10 p.m.**

"Hey, Sammy, it's me. I haven't heard from you so I'm thinking that you really meant it and that it's over and you're gone."

"I can't…I'm so sorry, Sam. I totally fucked up everything and I hurt you so bad and I'm just so goddamn sorry about this whole thing. I hope you can forgive me someday."

"I guess I'm gonna leave town tomorrow. There's no point sticking around any longer, especially if you're already gone. Be careful, Sam, ok? Remember everything I taught you."

"I'm gonna go out to get a beer at Gina's. I'll be there tonight. If you feel like seeing me, that's where you can find me."

"I really love you, Sam. Just wanted you to know that."

********************************************

Dean takes another swig of beer, staring dejectedly at the pool table, watching one guy hustle another.

He's been here for almost three hours now and still no sign of Sam. He knows it's over in his gut, he just doesn't want to admit to himself that Sam is really gone for good this time and he's alone, so frigging alone and he doesn't know how he's going to stand it.

Memories flicker through his head of their childhood, the hundreds of flea-bitten motels they stayed at over the years, not many memories of Dad so much as just him and Sam, watching TV, eating Spaghetti-Os and just getting through life together. He'd gotten Sam through bullies, his first kiss, his first time getting laid…

Dean shakes his head. Guess Sam doesn't want him anymore, doesn't want to be in a fucked-up relationship, be around someone who's self-esteem is in the toilet and who's so fucking needy it's not even funny.

He knew Sam wouldn't come. What the hell is he gonna do now? He can't go on alone, no way, he doesn't have that kind of strength and all he wants to do is curl up in a ball and die if he can't have Sam in his life.

He closes his eyes against the sting of tears, swallowing hard to keep them back. He hears a commotion coming from the pool table and opens his eyes to look that way. He sees the two guys throwing punches at each other and starts to stand, to intervene and help but sees the bouncer already there, getting the situation under control.

At the same time, he feels a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back onto the stool. He starts to turn and hears Sam's voice, close to his ear, "Stay still."

He freezes, holding his breath, a tic in his cheek working hard. Sam's other hand moves sensuously down his thigh to rest warmly on his knee.

Sam's breath is hot on his cheek, "You've been making bad choices, Dean. You crossed the line and you need to be punished. That's what I'm going to do to you tonight. After your punishment is over, everything will be forgiven and we won't speak about what you did again. Do you understand?"

Dean closes his eyes and nods, his body trembling with anticipation.

Sam's silky voice continues, stirring the hair around his brother's ear, "Here's what you're going to do now. You're going to finish your beer, pay your tab, say goodbye to Gina and go outside. Get in the car and wait for me. We're going to go back to your motel and I'm going to give you the discipline that you need. Do you understand?"

Dean lowers his head and covers Sam's hand with his own, "Yes."

Sam grips his knee, squeezing it tightly, punishing, "Yes, what?"

A small sob comes out of Dean's chest and his shoulders fall in relief, "Yes, sir."

"That's better. Now move."

*


	5. Chapter 5

*

Dean closes his eyes, mortified at the position he finds himself in. Could this be any more humiliating? Shit, he wishes Sam would just hurry up already!

He gives the ropes around his hands an experimental tug. Nope, he's bound up pretty tight, each wrist wrapped and then lashed together, the middle part hooked around the metal bed rail by a bungee cord.

He feels Sam move behind him and holds his breath but…nothing. Not yet, anyway. Dammit, Sam, hurry up!

He's across Sam's lap, splayed out on the bed for all the fucking world to see, pants and underwear down around his ankles, ass up, exposed, waiting. He's never felt so wide open and humbled in his whole life. His face is hot with embarrassment and he doesn't know how he's going to ever be able to face Sam again after this. What the fuck was he thinking, asking his brother to do this? Dean should have just let Sam leave and saved himself this awful situation.

Damn, he's been waiting for freaking ever! The anticipation is killing him! How long is Sam going to make him 'think about things'? He squirms, moving his hips a little, hoping to get Sam's attention, to remind his brother he's still here and waiting for Sam to just get _on with it! _

Sam shoulda just laid him on the bed and tied him up, like Dean did to Sam when it was Sam who was getting the spanking. That was just pure decency but this...this is too personal, laying across someone's lap, you're all pulled in close and their hand is on your back and your dick is pressing into their legs and your ass is right there...

Seems worse having his pants pulled down for some reason. Dean'd rather be buck naked than this - still having all his clothes on and just having 'em yanked down. He's still got his socks and shoes on, for Christ's sake! There's just something seriously wrong with that!

Since Sam put him here, his heart's been going like a trip hammer and he can barely breathe, the only thing in his mind is his brother, his bare ass in the cool air and what's coming next.

This is totally different than the session he had with the Chief. There, he'd been in control, telling the 'Dom' what he wanted and stopping it when he wanted. Not for nothing but he'd been standing, too, which gave him some dignity, and he'd been stark naked, which seemed proper and right.

Now, he has no control, nowhere to hide and it's all Sam, whatever Sam wants, whenever Sam wants and Dean can't do anything at this point but just wait and worry. It's scary and exciting, humiliating and frightening and Dean can feel his muscles trembling, his nerves aware of every air particle that touches his ass.

_Jesus_, this waiting is fucking killing him! That's all he's been doing since they left the bar!

*

Dean sits in the Impala, waiting impatiently for his brother to come out.

After Sam told him what to do, he sat down at the bar and ordered a beer, ignoring Dean, not even glancing at him, expecting Dean to follow his orders. So Dean had done just that, draining his beer and settling accounts, waving to Gina and leaving the bar, walking quickly outside. He climbs in the passenger side, fishing out the keys from his pocket and putting them in the ignition so Sam won't have to ask for them.

He's been here for over ten minutes and he's starting to get a little antsy, his skin beginning to crawl with worry. He doesn't really like pain, not like Sammy does, and he's kinda dreading that part of it. He knows it's necessary so he'll take it to make things right, to get forgiveness for his actions from Sam and himself so they can move on. Truth is, Dean doesn't even know if it's going to work, he's never been brand-new or clean in his life so he's pretty sure he won't be able to get back to a place he can't recollect he's ever been.

At least Sam is here now, with Dean, and for that, he's so eternally grateful and life's a hell of a lot better than it was an hour ago. So what's a little pain if it means he can have Sam back? It'll pass quickly and then tomorrow things'll be better with them and they'll be right with each other again.

The light in the parking lot creates long shadows all around him and he sees Sam coming out of the bar, walking around the car slowly, opening up the driver's side door. He doesn't get in immediately, just stands there and Dean doesn't know what he's thinking or feeling until Sam's voice crosses to him, "Eyes front, Dean and keep them there."

Dean looks at Sam once more and swallows hard over a suddenly dry throat. He forces his gaze forward, trying to relax into the seat but failing miserably. He takes a breath and mutters, "Sammy…"

"No talking. Just sit there and think about what you've done to deserve the spanking you're going to get."

Dean's stomach hits bottom with a thud at Sam's words and he rubs his legs with his palms nervously, feeling the tension around his balls, his chest tightening and it's hard to breathe suddenly. Sam gets in the car and Dean tries to see his face in his peripheral vision but can't tell if he's angry or playing or what. The silence is making him crazy and without even realizing it, he starts drumming his hands on his legs to a beat that only he can hear.

"Dean, stop the noise."

Shit. He stops, rubbing his hands together before clasping his fingers and resting them in his lap. He stares straight ahead, quietly and thinks about things like Sam told him to. The guilt on his shoulders weighs heavier with each memory, each stupid act, each wrong decision. By the time they reach the motel, Dean is hunched forward with it, wanting to crawl into the ground and hide away so he doesn't have to look at himself anymore.

Dean reaches for the door handle as soon as the car is parked and Sam's voice stops him. "Stay still."

Sam gets out of the car and opens the door for Dean, reaching in to grab an arm and pulling him up out of the seat. Dean gives his brother a questioning look but Sam just pulls him close, saying firmly, "Eyes down."

He's pulled by the tight grip around his arm up the sidewalk and into the room. Sam locks the door behind them and walks Dean over to a corner, leaving him standing there facing the wall with a short, "Don't move." while Sam rustles around behind him.

Dean stares at the wall, the guilt covering him like a shroud and he hopes this works because if it doesn't, he doesn't think he can live with himself for how much he hurt his brother. He knows Sam can't. He can feel the pain still coming off Sam in waves. He silently promises the wall that he'll do better by Sam with this second chance he's gotten.

"Ok, Dean. Come here." Sam calls to him. Dean turns around and sees his brother sitting on the bed, staring at him. He walks over and Sam motions that he wants Dean to stand to his right, next to him.

"Tell me why you're going to get punished, Dean."

"I, um…" Dean lets out his breath in a rush and his words come out stilted, stuttering, "'Cause I was a f-fucking idiot. I was mean and selfish and...I wanted you to be jealous and I-I hurt you real bad. I was a stupid jerk and I'm s-sorry, Sam, really sorry."

"Yes, you were and you're going to be even sorrier in a little while. Now, drop your pants."

Dean jumps a little at that and stares at Sam in surprise, "What, here?"

"Here."

"But...you're not going to get me naked? Tie me to the bed like I did you?"

"No."

"But..."

"You acted like a spoiled brat. So, you'll get spanked like a spoiled brat. Across my lap. Now, drop your pants. If I have to say it again, you're going to regret it."

Dean's mind is racing, trying to figure out this change in his scenario but his hands obediently go to his jeans and he unsnaps and unzips them. He pushes them off his slim hips and they drop to the floor. He starts to kick them off and Sam stops him, "Leave them on your ankles. Shorts, too."

His face starts to burn, high spots of color reddening his cheeks and he can't look at Sam, can only stare straight ahead, embarrassed, as he thumbs the waistband of his cotton underwear and pushes them down, too. His dick is heavy between his legs, but he can feel the excitement already stirring there, and his erection is starting to grow. He knows Sam sees it but he's ignoring it, taking up some rope and binding Dean's hands together.

He reaches up, takes Dean by the arm and pulls him across his lap, adjusting his position so that his ass is lifted up, his legs splayed on the bed behind him, the jeans and shorts helping to bind his feet together. Sam reaches over and hooks the bungee cord around the metal bed rail, around Dean's ropes and back on the bed rail, securing him nicely, and allowing him to rest on his elbows on the mattress.

"If you kick me, I'll tie your legs down too, do you understand?"

"Yes."

Sam slaps his ass sharply, "Yes, what?"

Dean clenches the cheek that was just smacked and exhales the sting away before gritting out, "Yes, SIR!"

"Do you understand why you're getting punished, Dean?"

"Yes...sir."

"Why?"

"I already told you."

"No, you didn't."

"I told you everything I did wrong, Sam. Do you...do you want me to say it again?" Dean asks the question very carefully, making sure it doesn't come out like a smart-ass remark. He's not in a great position right now to be letting smart-ass remarks fall out of his mouth.

"You're getting punished because you asked to be punished."

Dean closes his eyes in shame, his voice coming out a whisper, "Yes."

"You're ashamed?"

Another whisper "Yes."

"Because of what you did or that you asked for this?"

"B-both, I guess..."

"You should be ashamed because of what you did, not that you asked for my help. I'm going to give you a few minutes to lay here and think about what's coming next. I'm still mad as hell at you, Dean and I'm not going to hold back. Do you understand?"

Dean feels the sting of tears behind his eyes as he says softly, "Yes."

"Ok. I'll let you know when I'm ready."

*

So, here he lays, staring at his rope-bound hands and the mattress underneath, wishing he were anywhere else in the world but here, waiting to get his ass whupped by his little brother.

Sam's hand touches his bottom, rubbing it gently. Dean tenses and then, as his brother continues the soft caress, relaxes into Sam's warm fingers, arching up into the touch. Feels nice.

He hears Sam's husky voice, "It's time, Dean."

The first crack lands on his ass and Dean stiffens, wincing in pain, blowing out his breath in a huff.

Holy fuck, that hurt!

That was ten times harder than anything the Chief gave him and Sammy's just getting started. How the hell is he going to be able to take this?

Dean suddenly realizes he's in deep shit.

*


	6. Chapter 6

*

**_-Sam's story-_**

**_*  
_**

Sam closes his cell phone gently and places it on the desk in front of him.

He takes in a deep breath and then another, pinching his nose between his eyes to stop the throbbing in his head, a throbbing that goes by the name of Dean.

WHAM!

He slams his fist into the wooden table in front of him, anger seething through him. Stupid, stupid!

Dean didn't sleep with that girl! Damn it! Why couldn't he have just told Sam the truth last night instead of letting him believe-

Sam sets his jaw angrily, gritting his teeth so hard, they ache. He knows why.

Because if any situation even _hints_ at someone else having the slightest bit of control, Dean freaks out and starts being stupid. So Dean was jealous? That gave Sam clout, power over Dean, at least in Dean's eyes, so Sam had to be put in his place, taken down a peg or two so that he bends to Dean's will and understands who's in control here.

And last night, Dean had bent him Sam so far that he'll never be the same. Dean showed Sam parts of himself he'd just as soon not know existed, like his obsessive, possessive love for Dean and how savage Sam can become when that's threatened.

Sam never knew his feelings ran that deep and it scares the shit out of him, even now, knowing that Dean has that kind of power over him. No one should be able to make another person feel that bad, not ever.

And Dean did it deliberately. He had known, somehow, the depths of Sam's feelings and made it his business to bring Sam down, to crush him…just so Dean could keep control. Dean can manipulate him so easily, melting him with a heated look, making him steamy with a simple touch, or the low drawl of his deep voice.

Sam had to leave, for his own sanity, to get away from this huge thing between him and Dean, for his own peace of mind. He can't go back, either. There'll be nothing left of him if he goes back.

Sam rubs his jaw, wondering about Dean's second message. What did he mean about being forgiven, and wanting the slate wiped clean? Does that mean Dean wants...no, Dean doesn't mean that...he's just talking shit, that's all. Sam dismisses it with a toss of his head.

The last message Dean left made his heart hurt. Sam misses him, too but not enough to go back. Sam will never be an equal partner in Dean's eyes because Dean'll never willingly give up control and Sam doesn't think he can live with that.

Sam needs some of that power. His own sense of self depends on it. And he won't go back until Dean is willing to share it.

*

Sam hadn't even gotten any of Dean's messages until this morning. When the trucker had dropped him off, he'd checked into a room and dropped like a stone, emotionally and physically exhausted, not even hearing his phone ring during the night. He'd seen three calls from his brother when he woke up but deliberately didn't listen to them until he showered and dressed.

He was glad he waited. It would have just pissed him off earlier.

Ok, he needs a car and then he's going back to that bar to check on Dean's story. Not that he doesn't believe his brother but…well, he doesn't believe his brother.

Sam calls a rental car place and arranges to pick one up. He hitches a ride and as soon as he gets wheels, speeds back to Gina's bar to find out the truth. She's there and surprisingly honest with him, telling him the same thing Dean said, almost word for word and apologizing for getting in between them.

Sam shakes his head at her before he leaves, "Not your fault."

He grabs some lunch and heads back to his motel just as his phone rings.

Dean.

Sam can't talk to him now. Not yet. He's tired of fighting.

He lays down on the bed, flipping on the television, thumbing through channels absent-mindedly, his mind on his brother. He really missed waking up with him, too. He misses the early morning cuddling which usually led to…other things. Thinking of those other things makes his chest tighten and his dick stir in his pants.

He rubs his hand on his growing erection, picturing Dean's face beneath him, those green eyes smiling up at him, those lips, that lean, hard body pressing into him…

Sam closes his eyes, feeling himself slipping down into dreamland, where Dean waits for him and there is no fighting, no anger, just him and Dean…

*

Sam jolts awake, heart pounding, covered in sweat.

Holy hell, what a dream, Dean and erotic and sensual and-

Sam reaches down to feel the wet in his crotch. Great! He just came in his sleep.

He pushes back the blanket and cleans himself up, glancing at the clock. Wow, almost 8:00! He's slept most of the day away. He hears the sound from his phone signaling a voice mail and gives a deep sigh.

He really should see what Dean wants. It's been fun hiding but it's time to face reality again.

*

Sam sits, listening to the messages with his jaw hanging open, unable to believe what he's just heard.

Dean wants Sam to punish him. Dean wants Sam to-

A small smile works its way around his lips. Well, isn't this just an interesting turn of events? Here he was just thinking about wanting some control and Dean's just handing it over to him on a silver platter.

This could be good, really good, if Sam does it right. Thing is, he's still so pissed about the whole thing that he may end up going too far. But, if Dean can take it, it may be just what they need.

Sam would have to set the tone right away and not let it go. He walks through how it needs to go in his head, sure that Dean will stonewall him before he gets to finish the job. But, if Dean allows it, goes along with it and lets Sam lead him, Sam's sure he can get Dean where he's asking to go.

Suddenly more hopeful than he has a right to be, Sam figures he's gonna need a couple of things…

He takes up the phone book, looking for a sporting goods store in the area.

Maybe, just maybe, they can still fix this.

*

Sam gets Dean's last message and shows up at Gina's bar around ten o'clock. He stays in the background, watching his brother, wondering if he's gonna have enough courage to carry this thing out for Dean, for them.

He has to find the courage.

For one thing, Dean asked for his help. That must have been like swallowing glass for him, to not only go to a spanking session but also to have it not work, not give him what he needed and to have to admit that to a brother who no longer wants anything to do with him. If Dean had that kind of courage, the least Sam can do is buck up his own and help him.

Sam needs to keep his tone authoritative and Dean can't look at him, at all, or Sam may lose whatever dominance he will have over Dean. It has to be about Dean doing everything that Sam asks him to. He can't allow even one thing to slide or Dean won't be in the right mind-set to accept the punishment he's asked Sam to give him.

It's good that Dean thinks Sam is gone and is broken up about it. It'll keep him off balance and easier to lead if Dean has no defenses up.

He watches Dean sink lower and lower into beer-soaked sadness, looking more miserable by the second as time passes and he, Sam, doesn't come.

Sam deliberately waits another twenty minutes before standing, right at the moment the fight breaks out at the pool table. It gives him the perfect opportunity to approach Dean without his brother seeing.

Right when Dean stands up to help stop the fight, Sam comes up behind where he's sitting and reaches out to pull him back onto the bar stool with a firm hand. He stops Dean from turning around and knows when Dean says "Yes, sir" that he's got his brother right where he wants him.

Let the games begin.

*

**_-Dean's spanking-_**

*

Sam's pretty impressed. Dean's got a hell of a pain tolerance.

He's already laid twenty or so hard-as-he-can slaps on Dean's ass but his brother hasn't said a word, barely a sound even, just keeps clenching his ass cheeks after every swat and letting his breath hiss out from between his gritted teeth. He's raising a nice pink color on Dean's hind quarters but nothing like it's gonna be by the time he gets done.

Sam figures it's time to raise the heat a little.

As fast as he can, he delivers twenty hard smacks, the sound of his hand on his brother's ass loud as gunshots cracking in the air, first to one cheek and then the other, not giving Dean a chance to even settle between slaps.

At first, Dean lays on his elbows tensely, head down, muscles bunched up, but towards about the seventeenth smack, he grabs for the bed rail, scooting forward, trying to get away, clenching his ass in, digging his crotch into Sam's legs to escape the rock-hard hand that just keeps falling without mercy.

Sam gives a little smile. Now he's getting Dean's attention.

When Sam finally stops for a second, Dean collapses, breathing in a shuddering gasp, his body rigid, trembling.

Wordlessly, Sam reaches over and tugs Dean's hands off the bed rail then pulls him back down into place and begins again with the twenty slow slaps, hitting methodically, rhythmically, relentlessly.

This is what Dean asked for and this is what Sam promised to give him.

Dean needs to give up and give in, release everything up to Sam's control. That's the only way Dean will ever reach that place and find the healing he's so desperate for.

Plus, beating his brother's ass is helping Sam get over his own anger at Dean. It's a win-win, even though Dean probably isn't seeing things that way right now.

And when this is finally over, they're going to have a talk.

*

Jesus Christ!

Dean pants harshly, his lips and throat dry, trying to breath through the burning in his ass, totally unprepared for what's happening right now. He thought this would be like that session with the Chief, not too hard, not too painful and mistakenly told himself he could handle whatever Sam brought on.

The reality is that Sam's pissed off at him like never before and when Sam said he wasn't going to hold back, he wasn't kidding!

The slower spanking Sam started with was painful but it was a steady buildup and Dean probably could have handled that but the lightening round Sam just laid on his ass was like fire pelting his skin and towards the end, Dean was trying to crawl away, fighting to stop from hollering out loud.

He'll be damned before he gives Sam the satisfaction of making him yell. He's Dean Winchester and he can handle pain, yessiree, and nobody is gonna make him break, no matter how fucking much his ass hurts right now, he'll take whatever Sam gives him and keep his mouth shut, even if it kills him.

He's just thanking Christ that Sam's back on the slow smacks and the screaming in his backside has subsided to a dull roar.

Even the slow ones are getting harder to handle because Sam's whaling on him as hard as he can, driving each smack home, raising his hand high over his head and slamming it down to achieve maximum force, cracking across Dean's ass and thighs with a hand of stone, delivering welts of pain that slash and burn, making Dean's hips wriggle and roll, even though he tries like hell to stop himself from moving.

He asked for this. He deserves this.

He asked for this.

He deserves-

SHIT! This fucking HURTS!

He doesn't care if he deserves it 'cause all he wants to do right now is beat the shit out of Sam for doing this to him. If he could get loose, that's what he'd be doing right now. Fucking son of a bitch is a little too good at this!

Dean grabs the bed sheet in his hands, squeezing it tightly in his fingers, gritting his teeth as another smack hits him, the slash of pain coming a second later and he shuts his eyes tight against it, letting out his breath slowly, a small 'ahhh' on his exhale, the only sound he'll allow himself.

His muscles taut, trembling in reaction to the throb in his ass, he silently keeps count as Sam's hand comes down on him.

SMACK! _Eighteen._ "Ahhh…"

WHAP! _Nineteen._ "Ahhh…"

SLAP! _Twenty._ "Ahhh…"

Then, Sam starts with the non-stop slapping again, hitting him so fast and so hard that Dean loses count of how many times his brother's hand falls on him.

Dean can only hang on as Sam's hand cracks down on him again and again, coming too fast, the pain too intense, and the burn in his ass is building, building until it's _firefirefire_ and Sam _still_ isn't stopping, he just keeps fucking hitting and Dean grits his teeth so hard he thinks his jaw will crack, his grip on the sheet twisting it into a ball of sweat.

Without thought, Dean gets the toes of his shoes on the bed and he pushes off, moving himself up half a foot, straightening his arms so his back is arched up, trying to twist his ass away from that damn hard hand that just won't stop!

Finally, finally, Sam stops and Dean falls back onto his elbows, exhausted, wheezing now, the pain too much to breathe through, his ass end on fire, no longer stinging, it's gone to full fledged burning now and he's pretty sure he can't take anymore of this.

He feels Sam tug him back into position, laying his hand on the small of Dean's back to hold him down, and Sam starts again with the slow twenty.

Dean can't seem to hold his body still any longer, his head whips backward and his legs kick up with each smack of Sam's hard hand, the intense heat in his ass building up to melting point level.

SMACK! _Nineteen…_

WHACK! _Twenty_…_oh, shit, here it comes again._

Dean can't do it, his ass hasn't recovered from the last time, it's too much and before he can stop himself, he hears his own voice snarling at his brother, "Don't you fucking do it, Sam!"

Surprised that Dean spoke, Sam pauses and then says coldly, "What'd you say to me?"

"I said, don't do it, you son of a bitch! Let me up. I've had enough."

"That's not up to you, Dean. I say when you've had enough and you aren't anywhere near there."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you, you smug bastard?"

"No, Dean, I'm not."

With that, Sam stops talking and starts slapping, laying into Dean's ass so hard and so fast that Dean is shoved forward with each smack. Dean can't stay still, his hips rolling from side to side, trying to get away from Sam's vicious blows but he can't, Sam's aim never waivers and Dean crosses his feet to squeeze his legs together, hoping to make a smaller target, maybe help with the pain but it doesn't and-

Holy Shit! It's too much!

He tries to push off the bed and get away but Sam's got an iron grip on him and he just keeps hitting and sweat breaks out on Dean's brow, he bites his lip hard enough to make it bleed and Sam keeps just fucking hitting-

The agony in his ass is his whole world, all he can see, all he can feel and-

Dean breaks, his stony silence, his firm resolve not to say a word shatters into a million pieces, scattering all around him, falling all over the floor and he starts yelping with each wallop, just like when he was a kid again over his Dad's knee and his feet are kicking the bed hard-

SMACK! "OWW!"

SLAP! "Sam, stop!"

WHAP! "OUCH, Shit!"

WHACK!

Then, to his own humiliation, Dean starts to beg, "Sammy, PLEASE!"

SLAP! SMACK!

"OWWW, SAM! Let me up, man…you gotta let me up!"

CRACK!

"SAM! SHIT! Man, I've had enough now, learned my lesson, I won't ever-"

SMACK!

"OUCH! FUCK! …Won't ever do it again, you gotta…you gotta let me go, Sam, PLEASE!"

Time to up the ante some.

Dean feels Sam pause behind him for a couple of seconds, rooting around on the bed, looking for something and Dean is enjoying the short reprieve.

He feels Sam move, knows what's coming next and Dean clenches his ass at the last second and the smack that reverberates through his body is worse, far worse than anything so far and Sam's got something, it's not his hand but something hard and biting and oh, shit, the pain flares and lasts forever, the throb never leaving, a hot reminder of where it just landed.

"OWWW! Sam! What the…what the fuck is that?"

Sam reaches over and pushes it in his face. It's a fucking ping-pong paddle, for Christ's sake, and Sam's using it on him, paddling him now and this is just too much, too frigging much and his brother just needs to stop now and let him go.

But Sam doesn't see it that way and starts smacking him with that damn paddle, one cheek at a time, slow and steady, but every time it lands on his skin, it scorches and bites, worse because it's on top of an already burning backside, the agony of each whack coming a full second after it hits, blooming late and sharp-

And this time, Sam's talking.

WHAP!

"Your behavior the past few days is unacceptable, Dean. You're acting like a snotty kid and this is how snotty kids get treated. They get their pants pulled down and get paddled like the little brats they are. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm…OWWW…sorry, Sam! I already…OWWW…told you how sorry I was!"

SMACK!

"Not sorry enough, Dean! You used that poor girl and used me, all to make yourself feel better!"

"I…OUCH!...AM! I AM sorry!"

CRACK!

"God damn it!"

"You lied to me, made me believe you slept with her when you didn't. You were only thinking about yourself and what you needed. You don't ever think about anyone else!"

SLAP!

"OUCH! You son of a BITCH! Let me UP!"

"You don't sound too sorry, Dean! But you will be!"

WHAP!

"Lemme GO, SAM! When I get…OWW…the fuck up, I'm so kicking your ass, you BITCH!"

SMACK!

"Oh, I'm the bitch? Really?"

WHAP!

Dean tried to get his hands free, ripping into his wrists with the rope, trying to tear it off, even using his teeth to see if he could work it so he could get the hell out of here. Nothing!

He throws his legs to the side, trying to get off Sam's lap and dump himself onto the floor where he has a fighting chance of getting out of this. He manages to get partway off before Sam catches onto what he's doing and hefts him back into place.

Sam lets Dean's legs hang off his lap and he swings one of his legs over the backs of Dean's knees, pushing Dean's ass even higher onto his other leg, holding him like a vice and swinging that goddamn paddle down again, making Dean buck up against his hand, head thrown back in agony.

Dean can't even-

He can't even get his legs free now! He can't even kick his fucking legs!

He struggles as hard as he can but Sam's got it so he can't move. He can't move and there's no way out and all he can do is just take it. Goddamn it!

He's stronger than this, he is! Dean Winchester doesn't give in, doesn't give up, never, never and he's not going to now! It doesn't matter that he can't move, that he's almost screaming with the intense fire in his ass, that he feels the tears starting to sting his eyes, gathering to make everything look smeary and shimmering and one even rolls down his face and isn't this just fucking wonderful!

Dean puts down his head, feeling the tears come now, full force, needing to hide them from Sam, to hide from everyone. God, he's such a fucking train wreck, he hurts everyone he loves and he just wants to stop hurting people, he wants to be better. Sam was wrong, he's sorry, sorrier than he's ever been in his life because he's such a piece of shit and not worth anything at all and he just wants Sam to love him so he feels worth something.

He can't fight anymore, he just can't. It's not giving up, it's letting go, releasing the black shit in his gut, the anger that festers there constantly and if he just lets it go, it won't hurt as much, his life won't hurt as much and he wants that more than anything in the world. He just has to let it all go…

Just let it all go and Sammy will take care of him, take care of everything and finally Dean won't have to worry anymore about anything, Sam's got it all under control and just this once, Dean can let Sam have it all. It's all ok 'cause Sam loves him and that's why he's doing this, he's helping Dean out from under all of this shit Dean lives with and Sam's taking it from him, off his shoulders and it's such a relief…

Weird, Sam's still hitting him as hard as ever but it's less intense now, the sharp slash of the paddle not quite so deep and he can take it a little better now, it doesn't hurt as much as it did before and it seems slower, less, ebbing and for the first time in his life, Dean feels light, the weight in his heart less, his stomach isn't twisting into knots anymore.

Sam, the room, the spanking all seem far away now and Dean feels like he's falling, sliding away somewhere nice, soft and warm, where there are no worries and no fear, no pain and no rage, just love and peace and everything is good, he is good and right and finally, finally, clean again.

*

Sam feels Dean slow down, his reactions to the paddle not as violent, his jerking lessening. He doesn't slow the spanking, knowing from experience that Dean needs the continued stimulation to finally get there, to that place and if he stops, Dean won't make it.

Dean's head jerks up only every few swats now and his feet stopped kicking long ago. His hands have released his death grip on the sheet and he's laid his head on his arms now, resting against the bed, staring to the side.

He finally relaxes and his body goes limp over Sam's lap and he doesn't even move anymore when Sam smacks him with the paddle.

Sam continues to punish Dean's ass for a few more seconds but he lessens the force behind the slaps, knowing that Dean is at his most vulnerable right now and that Sam has to take care of him, make sure he's safe until he comes back.

Finally, Sam stops, shaking his head at the sight of Dean's ass. It's deep red, raw and welted all over the cheeks, thighs and hips. Shit, he ended up having to beat his brother black and blue before Dean finally caved in.

Until Dean decided to give up the control he held onto so tightly, the only thing Sam could do was to keep on hitting, giving Dean as much pain and humiliation as he could bear, the only way to get Dean to the place he so desperately wanted to go.

Jesus, Dean sure was a hard one to crack and his pain tolerance was out of this world. Sam would've broken in half the time. But, Sam always knew Dean was stronger than him and stubborn! Sam's never seen anyone so obstinate in all his life, so determined not to give in and give up control and it only made it that much harder on both of them.

Sam sincerely hopes to hell this is the only spanking he'll ever have to give his brother because his hand is throbbing and his arm is on fire. And Dean isn't going to be able to sit comfortably for days.

Dean's still not moving, barely breathing in fact and Sam rubs a gentle hand over his brother's fiery ass, glad this is over with. Dean has certainly paid his debt to Sam in full and Sam forgives him completely, loving him more now than ever before and he reaches up with his other hand to caress Dean's hair and cheek.

"You still with me, Dean?"

He's not surprised at the lack of response. It takes a while to come back sometimes. He rubs Dean's back through his shirt with one hand, reaching up to release the bungee cord from the bed with the other. He works the knot in the ropes until it loosens and he's able to release Dean's wrists, rubbing them gently to get the circulation back.

Sam feels Dean's legs move slightly and Sam moves his leg off, releasing them and pulling Dean's legs back up onto the bed.

Dean groans, low in his throat at the movement and Sam whispers, "Sorry, I know it hurts…"

"Sammy…"

Dean's voice is hoarse, unsure, "Can…can I get up now?"

"Sure" Sam says, "Need some help?"

"No, I got it" and Dean puts his hands on the bed, pushing himself up, sliding his legs off onto the floor and his knees start to give. Sam grabs him and pulls him up, back next to him on the bed, helping him sit down carefully.

Dean's shoulders are slumped and he looks down at the floor for a moment, "Guess I needed help."

"Guess so."

Sam stares at his brother curiously, wondering what he's thinking and feeling right now, unsure of what needs to come next.

Dean is sitting so quietly that Sam is starting to worry that maybe he's gearing up to kick Sam's ass or something. At this point, Sam's ready for anything.

Anything except what happens next.

*


	7. Chapter 7

*

Dean moves so fast, Sam only sees a blur.

He finds himself on his back, staring at the ceiling, getting the absolute life kissed out of him. Dean's hands grip his ears, crushing his lips, forcing them apart, tongue thrusting in, sliding sensuously, curling around Sam's tongue, flicking at it with hot abandon, making Sam's dick rise up to attention and his heart rock in his chest.

Sam can feel the passion rising in his balls, licking warm flames through his belly, and he opens up for his brother, reaching to cup Dean's face in his hands, pulling him forward for a deeper taste, kissing back for all he's worth.

Dean's hands are everywhere, pulling at Sam's flannel shirt, buttons flying through the air, desperately tugging at the t-shirt, trying to get it off but unable to pull it up fast enough. With a growl, Dean grabs it between his hands and rips it apart, away from Sam, hungry for the taste of his brother's sweet skin, the hotness of Sam's flesh against his own.

He caresses Sam's nipples and ribs and moves lower, below Sam's belly button, his fingers burning a trail wherever they move, awakening Sam's nerve endings to a screaming intensity

They part, gasping, breathing into each other, Sam staring up into Dean's eyes, seeing the hot passion, the hunger for Sam glittering there, and Sam rubs his brother's cheek gently with a thumb.

Dean turns his head into Sam's palm, kissing it and holding it tightly to his face, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek into it. When he opens his eyes to look at Sam, he's fighting not to cry and Sam sees that something is working in him, something that Dean's not ready to talk about and it hurts Sam's heart to see.

"Dean." Sam whispers, "What is it?"

His brother shakes his head, lips trembling and he battens down on Sam's mouth again, laying on a kiss that leaves Sam's knees shaking. Dean teases, licking his tongue seductively over Sam's mouth, slipping between his brother's lips, dipping in for a taste of the sweetness that lies trembling inside.

He breaks the kiss, trailing hot kisses over Sam's jaw, nipping and licking along the bone, working his way down Sam's throat, sucking at the hollow at the base and moving down, swirling his tongue over Sam's sensitive skin, tasting the sweat, the hot excitement, the lust, all the flavors of Sam, leaving his brother shivering as the hot wet path from Dean's tongue cools in the air and tickles over his body, the hairs on his skin rising up in awareness, his erection hard and pulsing now, pushing up into Dean's body with a demand for attention.

Dean must feel the rock hard dick nudging against him cause he raises his head up, eyes locking onto Sam's, the flickering flames in that green gaze burning with hot lust. Sam feels Dean's hands frantically pulling at his belt buckle, finally freeing it, the tinkling sound of it reaching Sam's ears and next, the harsh rasp of the zipper yanked down quickly.

A hot palm reaches in, pulling on Sam's dick, freeing it from the confines of his jeans, letting it burst out into the cool air.

Dean hurriedly tugs Sam's jeans and underwear down and off, tossing the clothes over his shoulder onto the floor as an afterthought before eagerly turning back to Sam, grabbing the base of his stiff cock in a tight fist, pulling the skin up the shaft, thumbing the tip expertly, knowing his brother's hot spots.

Sam feels his hips buck up under Dean's touch, his body jerking and twitching as Dean pulls on his dick, lighting a fire in his loins that starts to build, increasing with each tug of Dean's fist, and Dean's jerking up and down on Sam's shaft, scraping his fingernail along the pulsing vein underneath, and Sam moves his body, meeting Dean's pulls with a hip jerk of his own, gasping out his pleasure into the quiet room, gripping the sheet in sweaty fists and twisting, toes curling into the mattress. _So good, so fucking good!_

Higher and higher he climbs, Dean bringing him to the edge of heaven and holding him there, slowing down now, keeping him on the precipice and Sam's hips can't go much higher, his body quaking with electricity, jagged slashes of it shooting through his belly, into his dick and balls and Sam's thighs are straining to keep his hips moving and he can't stand much more of this, Dean's gotta let him go 'cause it's too much, too good, flashes of light behind his eyes and a ringing, humming in his head, making him moan and gasp-

"Jesus, Dean, _please_!" he almost whimpers it, hands twisting the sheet tighter, knuckles white with tension and he feels the hot, wet, sweetness of his brother's mouth plunge down over him, taking him all in, so deep into his throat, sucking him in and swirling his tongue over the tip of his dick, tickling the slit and Sam arches his back into Dean's mouth, into the fever that Dean's bringing him-

With a cry, Sam explodes into Dean's mouth, grabbing his brother's head and pumping deeply into Dean's throat, shooting his hot liquid into those sweet lips and Dean drinks, making sounds low in his throat like it's the best thing he's ever tasted, sucking and swallowing until Sam is drained and Dean licking him clean, lapping his tongue over his dick to get every drop, every taste and pressing small kisses along his now flaccid shaft.

"Holy…holy shit, Dean!" Sam gasps out, trying to get his breathing under control, body trembling with aftershocks, waves of pleasure still flicking at his nerve endings.

Dean's hands are on his hips now, urging him over onto his belly and Sam obliges, surprised at the position because Dean's never taken him like this before, always wanting Sam to be facing him but Sam doesn't care as long as he gets to have Dean shoving up inside him, owning his ass, owning him.

Sam stretches out his long legs and Dean's hands pull Sam up onto his knees, stroking over his ass, spreading him wide open and Sam feels Dean's tongue, _Christ,_ _his tongue_…licking and swirling and _oh fuck_, that's the nicest thing he's felt in a long time, just warming him up all over his body, his muscles losing their strength and he's barely able to hold himself up on his shaking arms.

His breath catches and he's panting, pushing himself back onto Dean and his sensual, sliding, licking, poking _goddamn_ tongue…_Jesus_, all coherent thought's just gone bye-bye and all he can think, all he can feel and breathe is that freaking tongue slipping around inside of him and rushes of pleasure are shooting up his legs into his cock and it's growing again, impossible, he just came and he _can't _be ready to go again but _oh, shit_, there it is, hanging down, thick and heavy and _oh my God_, he needs Dean's hard fucking dick inside him now, right now!

Then Dean's maddening tongue is gone and his fingers are there, pushing up and plunging deep inside him, swirling lube in and around, two fingers, then three and then-

Oh, and then-

his brother's thick, hot dick pushing in, slowly, steady, plowing forward, shoving in and burying himself deep, filling Sam up, and Sam tosses his head back, grunting low in his throat, and thrusting back onto Dean, hearing his own voice whimpering with passion, "Harder, harder…"

And Dean hears the moaning and answers Sam by pulling back almost all the way out and slamming into him again, smacking up against his ass with his hips, driving him forward onto the mattress, pulling back and crashing in again, and Dean is pounding into him so hard that Sam can barely hold on, can barely breathe with the waves of pleasure bursting through him, blossoming up from his ass into his balls and he reaches down, grabbing his dick with a tight fist, jerking so hard and so fast, it's almost painful.

Dean suddenly thrusts deeper than ever, pulling Sam's hips back, grinding his cock forward and his body stiffens, trembling, muscles rigid and Sam feels him pulse inside and Dean cries out, erupting, shooting deep inside Sam, thrusting again and again until there's no more, he's spent, empty and Sam is jerking, pulling, tugging until he bursts, spurting all over his hand and the bed, knees shaking, body twitching until he's done, gasping in relief.

They collapse, Dean on top of Sam's back, sweating and panting, taking their time, recovering slow and easy.

Once he gets his breathing under control, Dean pulls himself out, shifting his weight off Sam's back onto the bed. He waits a moment and stands up, pulling up his pants as he makes his way to the bathroom.

Sam turns his head, watching him go, only now realizing Dean's still fully dressed, has been since his spanking, wondering how Dean became such a wonderful lover when he wasn't looking, how he knows just how to touch Sam and make him lose control, lose his sanity and abandon all his defenses.

He hears Dean gargling in the bathroom and smiles. Man, that was hot and Sam can't believe how he laid Sam wide open, exposed him and turned him into a pulsing, twitching erection with no thought other than to take anything Dean was willing to give him. Jesus, he loves him so much right now.

Dean pads back to the bed and lays down next to Sam, staring into his eyes with a tentative smile. He rubs Sam's back with gentle fingers and leans in for a chaste kiss, tasting like Scope, and Sam rolls onto his side, facing him, wrapping his arm around him.

Sam smiles, "What made you do that? With the tongue thing? Holy hell, that was wicked!"

Dean's eyes study his brother's face, "That was the one place I hadn't tasted you yet so, I thought…"

"Was it gross or something? Is that why you Scope'd?"

Silence for a moment and then, "It wasn't gross at all, Sammy, I love the way you taste. I love everything about you. I gargled 'cause I wanted to kiss you and thought you'd be freaked out by it, but no, it definitely wasn't gross. I love how you reacted, you were so beautiful thrusting back up against my mouth. I love driving you crazy like that."

Sam blushes at the description and then reaches out, pulling Dean closer, covering his mouth with a deep kiss, sliding his tongue into Dean's mouth, wanting to taste that wonderfully erotic tongue that made him feel so good and Dean is stiff for a moment and then _wuffles_ into his mouth, an odd sound that makes Sam pull back in surprise.

Big, fat tears fill Dean's eyes as he looks at Sam, his face heartbroken, his lower lip trembling uncontrollably.

"Sammy…" he whispers, "I love you so much."

"I love you, too." Sam gives back, bewildered and worried, "What, Dean? What is it?"

"That spanking really helped me, Sam. Thank you for doing such a thorough job. It did the trick, that's for sure. I can see things more clearly now and I know what needs to be done, but, Christ, Sammy, I don't want to do it…"

"Don't want to do what? What needs to be done?"

Dean closes his eyes, shutting them tight against the pain in his heart and the tears roll down his face as he swallows convulsively and says gruffly, "It's over, Sam. We can't be like this anymore with each other. This was the last time and I knew it. That's why I wanted to just love you and drive you crazy, because we're not going to do this anymore. I'm not going to hurt you like that ever again. From now on, we're brothers and we're hunters but we're not lovers, not anymore, not ever again."

"Dean, no…" Sam felt his heart rip in two, right then and there, felt it just shred and tear and blow away from him, leaving him empty and breathless.

"If we have needs…we need to take care of them without the other one knowing or being around. I don't want to know if you go fuck some girl and I'm not going to tell you if I do. But I can't do this to you anymore, Sam. I won't do it."

"But you're the one who said you couldn't live without us being together, remember? What's changed?"

"What's changed is that I'm your big brother and I'm supposed to protect you from things that will hurt you. That's my job, always has been, always will be. How the hell am I supposed to protect you from me? When I'm the one hurting you? The only answer is I have to step down, back off and just say no, to myself and to you. I'm the one that's responsible for you and it's up to me to stop what's hurting you. So, I'm stopping it. Now. Tonight."

"But I don't want to stop, Dean. Don't I have a say in this?"

"No, Sam, you don't. This is the way it's going to be from now on and we're both just going to have to deal with it. No more. That's it."

Sam sits up and turns away, pulling the sheet up to cover his nakedness, feeling too fucking young and too fucking sad to deal with this.

"Sam?" Dean sits up, touches his back and Sam pulls away from his hand, a sob racking through him.

"I don't think I can do this, Dean. I don't think I can go back to being just brothers again, not and stay here with you. It's the same problem all over again, we won't be able to function because we'll be distracted by each other."

Dean shakes his head, "No, Sam. It's simply not an option anymore. That's it. Even if you come to me, I'll refuse you. Eventually, you'll stop coming and start to forget. So will I. It'll get better with time."

"That's bullshit and you know it!" Sam yells back at him, anger washing through him.

"It's all we got, Sam. It's gonna have to do." Dean's tears were long since dried, his face tight and closed off, his mind made up, "Now, get into your own bed. You sleep there from now on. We're done talking about it."

Sam turns back to look at Dean, longingly, and Dean gives him such a sad, sorry look that Sam's heart twist in his chest. Sam knows he can't change Dean's mind, not when he gets like this. He just has to deal with it.

Ok, fine. If this is what Dean wants, then Sam will do as he asks and they'll be fine, just fine.

Who's he kidding? They'll never be fine again.

*

-the end -

*

A/N: Ok, I just made myself very sad :(

*


End file.
